Page 12 of Good Intentions, Vol. 3

I want to make him squirm. I never was blunt with him before but instead was shy, almost on the verge of being naive. But when I see a grin pulling at the corner of his lips, I look to my left hoping that Sue would come in and save me somehow.

“Oh, she won’t come and save you,” Nick says as if he can hear my thoughts. “I told her we have an urgent matter to discuss and it would probably take a while.”

I gasp and start walking backward as Nick slowly, almost lazily pulls his hands out of his pockets and starts advancing.

“Now, let’s go back to you leaving your boyfriend.”

He spits the word boyfriend as an insult. So the news did have some effect on him. Not the kind I wanted to, but I guess something is better than nothing. When I come in contact with the wall, Nick stops two steps away from me. I look left and right trying to figure out which is the best way to go. If I go right, my desk is in the way and besides, there’s no way to go. To the left and I wouldn’t be able to take a single step to the door before he could stop me.

“There’s nowhere to run, Heather. So you got my emails, hmm?”

The sing-song way he is asking his questions is both enraging me and turning me on. He used to do that when he wanted me to do something, like kneel under his desk and take his cock in my mouth that first night.

Oh, God.

I can’t lose focus now.

“I don’t care about the first one. I want to know what did you do when you read the second one.”

Oh, God.

I can’t tell him that.

He can never know that after I read that email I was so turned on I went straight to the shower and moaned his name over and over while I made myself come thinking of what he wrote. It was just my luck that Luke came knocking on the door and heard me.

“It’s none of your business,” I stupidly say. The victorious gleam in his eyes can’t be mistaken.

“So you did do something,” he muses. “I wish I was there so I could have watched. Or joined you.”

“You…” I start.

He takes a step towards me. “There’s something you need to know, Heather.”

“What?” Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut? Why do I have to talk? I should just let him say what he wants to say so he can go and leave me alone.

“The other day you told me to go to my wife,” he takes another step to me. I can feel the heat of his body slamming into me in waves. His intoxicating smell invades my senses and I start to gulp air like a man dying of thirst would do when met with a glass of water. “But I can’t do that,” he replies.

That gets my attention. “Why?”

I’m afraid of the answer.

God.

Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.

Please.

“Because I don’t have a wife anymore, pretty girl.”

“What?” How could it be?

The last time I saw him, he was accusing me of trying to destroy his marriage. He said he had sex with her. I could see the steel determination to save his marriage written all over his face. The memory of it is still so painful that I can’t help it and a tear drops from my eye. Nick traces it down to my chin his face mirroring my pain. He looks like he’s going to break down and fall on his knees. He looks like he’s on the verge of taking me in his arms and shield me from the torment he continuously causes me. He looks like my destroyer and savior all at once. When he takes a final step to me I expect him to do all that and more. His hands come on both sides of my head, his palms caress the wall going up and down like he used to glide them over my skin. With each upper glide, he comes a little bit closer until I can feel the phantom touch of his body on mine.

“I don’t have a wife anymore,” he says matter of fact. “Claire and I got divorced.”

I feel like he punched me in the stomach. After everything, after I gave him up, after he lied to me and hurt me, after so many sleepless nights, he leaves her? He looks at me and waits.

When I stay silent he urges, “Say something.”